Last Monday, Bryce and Reed came home from Baylor wagging along large, fully stuffed laundry bags. Reed admitted that it wasn't his best "packing job" - meaning that the laundry bags doubled as luggage. Gradually, during the week I've washed load after load of stinky college laundry making mental notes to explain things to the boys like the relationship between mildew and wet towels.
A few random child-size socks came tumbling out of the last drawstring laundry bag along with musty towels, wadded up underwear, and stained Brooks Brothers polo shirts. I spied a couple of snipped off toes from child-size socks. My head was still cocked to one side with my eyebrows knitted in puzzlement when I saw the corresponding cut-off sock heels.
My voice echoed through the house, "Reeeeeeed! Can you come here for a minute?! I need to ask you about something!"
"Yeah, Mom?" he innocently said entering the kitchen.
At this point, I must admit that I am forensic scientist mother. I can detect obscure details that hint at larger "issues." I've got a nose like a blood-hound as well as keen x-ray vision. I can read facial expressions with pinpoint accuracy. Those severed child socks had me strapped. Try as I might, I couldn't interpret the behavior associated with the evidence given.
"What can you tell me about these socks?" By now, Alan and Bryce had joined us in the kitchen and were waiting anxiously with big grins on their faces to hear what Reed had to say.
"Welll," he began with a sheepish grin on his face, "You know how stinky my feet get?"
We all nodded. Yep. His feet are a family legend of epic proportions.
"Sometimes, I just go get new socks and throw the stinkiest ones away."
We were intrigued. "Uh huh?..."
"One time when I went to Target, I just grabbed the first 3 bags of socks I saw. Turns out, they were too small. (They would have fit a kindergartener.)
"Sooo, I figured out that if I cut the toe off of 1/2 of the socks...
"And, combined the heel part with a another sock. It worked just as well as a regular sock."
After we laughed heartily over Reed's college freshman ingenuity, I said sternly, "Don't move! I'm going to go get my camera. There is some serious blogging that is about to happen, young man."
Bryce and Reed both have new on-campus jobs at the Baylor library beginning this week. They have told me to refer to them as "the librarians." I guess that would make my youngest son "the librarian who is masterfully ingenious when it comes to wearing tiny socks."
I may keep the cutoff toes that I gathered from the drier in one of my "treasure boxes" along with soft locks of baby hair and tiny white baby teeth. Awww! Isn't hims a big boy!?